Four Miles
by jaded river hussie
Summary: Natalie deals with Cristian's death, John McBain's continued presence in her life, the good intentions of others, and the holiday season. Includes some John & Natalie 'shipper vibes. Work in progress.
1. Part 1

  
**Disclaimer:** Characters and locations are property of ABC Daytime's _One Life to Live_. Lyrics are property of their respective authors and publishers. I claim no right, ownership, or affiliation. No copyright infringement intended.  
  
**Author's Notes:** I've tweaked with a few things, like character ages and time elapsed between certain events. A lot of this fic diverges from what's actually happening on the show but I am using a few things that have happened plus my own spoiler-based speculations.   
I actually have 9 parts already written and just decided to post it here. A new part will be uploaded every 2-3 days.  
  


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_"Roads are like people; they have personalities -- colored by how we see and feel about them at particular times…. Losing a loved one can break your heart, but it can also open your eyes. Now when the road is snarled or long and hard, I break it into pieces in my soul. I divide it into four-mile stretches. You can endure anything for four miles -- even find beauty and acceptance along the way."_ - Sharon Randall 

  
**Part 1   
  
Sunday, November 2, 2003  
Cottage**   


The front door of the cottage swung open and Natalie Buchanan Vega glared at the man outside, "What the hell are you doing here?" 

John McBain wasn't expecting her to be thrilled to see him or even receptive, but he was still thrown by how much she blamed him and hated him -- not that he didn't hold himself responsible for the way things had turned out. "I just -- I wanted to see how you were doing." 

Her voice was cold. "Like you care. And I meant what are you still doing in Llanview? I thought you were reassigned to some case in New Jersey." 

"I was." 

"Well?" 

"Seems that the case has moved here." 

She let out a mirthless chuckle, "That's just my luck, isn't it? You know, come to think of it, I've had some pretty rotten luck ever since I met you." She met his eyes, "You're like my very own bad luck charm." Her eyes traveled past him, looking at nothing, "Or maybe I'm just cursed." 

He didn't know what to say. Not that anything he said would help. "I never meant for anyone to get hurt. No one was supposed to get hurt let alone--" 

"Die? Get killed?" Her hard eyes were focused on him again. Her voice rose with her anger, "Oh, well, that makes it all better except -- no, it doesn't. My husband is still dead. Do you get that? Do you? Do you understand that I was only married for _three days_ before I became a widow? I am twenty-three years old and Cristian was twenty-five; I should not be a widow, damn it! I should still be on my honeymoon. My husband should still be alive. I should be _happy_. Do you know that I'd never really known what it was to be truly happy until I met Cristian? That he is the only person who always made me feel good about myself and never, _ever_ wanted me to change? And now he's gone. Because of you. I don't give a damn if you were just doing your job and that your superiors at the Bureau didn't give you much of a choice in things. It's a lame excuse and it's bullshit. You _chose_ to recruit me and use me as a pawn. You _chose_ to threaten me when I tried to back out of the tournament. You _chose_ to try and threaten me into throwing the tournament. You _chose_ to never give me the slightest indication that you were going to endanger my life and the lives of the people I love. You _chose_ this for me, this pain. _You chose_ to never give me a choice." 

"If I could have changed the way that things went down -- if I'd handled it differently…. If I would have been able to." He sighed. "I wanted to tell you, Natalie. Honestly, I did." 

She let out a snort as she leaned against the door frame, "Am I suppose to believe that?" 

"It's the truth." 

"You wouldn't know the truth if it bit you on the ass, McBain," she spat. "You lied to me for weeks. Every word that came out of your mouth was a lie --" 

"That's not true--" 

She threw him an icy glare for interrupting her before she continued, "-- part of some elaborate cover story. Hell, I don't even who you are." She laughed as a realization hit her, "Oh, my God. Is John McBain even your real name?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh, well, guess you didn't lie about _everything_ after all." 

They stood in silence for several seconds as she continued to glare at him and he debated whether or not he should just leave things as they were. 

"I know it doesn't mean much to you -- not now -- but if there's anything I can do for you, if there's anything you need -- while I'm still in town -- don't hesitate to give me a call," he said quietly, knowing how empty his words must sound, handing her his card. 

She looked down at the card then back up at him, "You've got to be kidding. Unless you can bring my husband back to life or turn back time and make it so that you and I never meet, don't hold your breath waiting for me to call. On second thoughts, hold your breath." She pushed herself off the doorframe, ready to slam the door in his face then paused, "Would you trade places with him?" 

Her query caught him completely off guard, "I'm sorry?" 

"If you had known that Cristian would end up dead, would you have traded places with him? Would you have died in his place? Would you have given your life so that he could live?" 

He didn't say anything and looked down at the ground. 

Natalie slowly nodded her head, "That's what I thought." 

"It's not that simple." 

"Yes, it is. You say you're sorry but those words don't mean anything. _Especially_ if you wouldn't do everything in your power to change what happened if you could." 

"Yes, I would," he said sincerely. 

She ignored him, "You want to make things easier for me? You want to make amends for screwing up my life and getting my husband killed? Then stay the hell away from me." 

Then she slammed the door in his face. 

  



	2. Part 2

  
**Note:** See Part 1 for all pertinent info and the disclaimer.  
  


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**Part 2   
  
Monday, November 3, 2003  
Cottage**   


Jessica Buchanan rearranged the flowers in the vase that was placed on the table in the foyer. She glanced at her sister who was seated in the living room, skimming through the day's edition of _The Banner_. Sounding casual, she began, "So, I guess you've heard about that woman that was found murdered. Isn't it horrible?" 

Natalie didn't look up, "Yeah." 

She continued, cautiously, hoping not to upset her sister with the information that John McBain wasn't leaving Llanview just yet, "They think it might be a serial killer. The MO's the same as some guy who killed three people in New Jersey already. Uncle Bo said that the FBI's investigating too to see if it's the same guy or a copy cat or just a really weird coincidence." 

Natalie had stopped reading the paper and looked up as soon as Jessica had mentioned New Jersey. She mumbled, "That's his case." 

Jessica looked at her, "Did you say something?" 

"That's John McBain's new case." 

She eyed her curiously, "How did you know that?" 

"He told me. I guess he was trying to be courteous or whatever when he came over yesterday evening to let me know that he was staying in town." 

Jessica furrowed her brow, "You talked to him?" 

"It wasn't a civil conversation. It was like him saying, 'Hey, sorry I got your husband killed but I've got some more bad news for you. I know you hate me and are really looking forward to my leaving town but it seems that the case I was transferred to has moved here so I'll be sticking around for a bit and making your life a little more miserable than it already is.' And then I yelled at him a lot." 

"You still blame him?" Jessica asked as she stepped into the living room. 

Natalie tone became defensive, "Of course, I still blame him. I'm always going to blame him. I will always hate him. It's his fault Cristian's dead." 

"Oh, you have every right to blame him and to be mad at him -- furious even. I mean, I'm mad at him. He _is_ responsible for getting you involved in that mess with Flynn." Jessica hesitated, "But _he_ didn't kill Cristian." 

"He might as well have." 

Jessica chewed on her bottom lip, "Natalie, are you sure that maybe some of your anger towards John McBain isn't misplaced? I mean, it wouldn't be the first time you've placed blame on someone who didn't deserve it." 

Natalie glared at her, "Exactly what is that supposed to mean?" 

"Um…" Jessica didn't want to cause any tension between herself and her sister but she just couldn't seem to say the right thing to ease Natalie's anger. She was beginning to regret bringing any of this up. "You remember last winter after Mitch and Grandpa Victor tried to cut your heart out and you shut mom out? Well, not just mom, all of us, but you kept saying that mom would choose me over you and I think some of that was you being mad at dad because he hadn't been there for you and hadn't acknowledged you and wasn't around so you took it out on her. And maybe because you felt unwanted because Grandpa Victor wanted my heart and not yours." 

"Thank you for reminding me of what a self-centered bitch I am. No wonder you're the golden child," Natalie said bitterly, getting up and walking into the foyer. 

Jessica followed her, "No, Natalie, that's not what I meant. I meant," she paused, trying to find the right way to explain herself. "Back then, you were mad at dad but he wasn't around for you to take your anger out on him or you were mad because Grandpa Victor didn't want _your_ heart, so you did the next best thing and took your anger out on mom because she was here and because she did want you. It sort of drudged up all those old bad feelings for you." 

Natalie folded her arms across her chest, "Okay, going with this theory of yours, who should I be directing my anger and hatred at if not John McBain?" 

"Cristian," Jessica said timidly. 

"What?" Natalie exclaimed. "Cristian's dead and you think that I should be mad at him?" 

"No! No, I think that deep down inside you blame him for leaving you but you don't want to. That no matter how much you love him, you hate him for dying and leaving you alone. But, you can't take it out on him because he is dead. And that's why you blame John. Because it's easy. It's convenient. And he's here. He's still alive." 

Natalie shook her head, "How can you say that? How can you even think that I blame Cristian? Or that I -- that I could _hate_ him? It's not like Cristian was trying to get himself killed --" 

"Well…" Jessica trailed off. 

"What?" 

"I'm not saying that he was trying to get himself killed but he knew that the situation was dangerous and he still barged into the cabin to save you --" 

"Wait -- are you saying that it's _my_ fault that Cris is dead?" 

Jessica pouted, "Natalie, you know that's not what I'm saying at all." She stumbled over her words, "Maybe if Cristian had just done what John McBain had said, if he'd stayed out of the way --" 

"If John McBain hadn't gotten us involved in the first place and kept us in the dark about what was really going on, Cristian wouldn't have been in the way." 

There was a determination in Natalie's tone that made Jessica drop the subject. She only wanted to help her sister talk things out so that she could begin to cope with her loss. "I'm sorry. You're going through so much right now. You're grieving; you probably really don't want to talk about what-ifs and maybes." 

"No, I don't." Natalie's eyes and tone softened, "So, how are things with Antonio?" 

"They're great. You know, I bet mom's lonely at Llanfair. All by herself." 

"I'm not moving out, Jess. Not now, not ever." She let her eyes roam around the room, "This place, everything in it, it's me and Cristian -- _only_ me and Cristian. The loft was him and Jen. The apartment was Antonio's long before it was ours for the short time we lived there. The carriage house -- the carriage house was just tainted; me and Seth, Jen and Al, Jen and Cristian. Llanfair…that was you and Cristian. But this place, this is our place. No one else's. It's _our_ memories, _our_ love, and _our_ life together. It's us." 

"Okay," Jessica said simply. "Are you still staying in the apartment upstairs?" 

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

Jessica shrugged, "I don't know. I guess I just assumed that maybe you'd stay in one of the rooms here in the main part of the house until you finished mourning." 

Natalie cocked her head to the side, wondering if such a thing was possible, "Do you really think they'll come a time when I won't mourn Cristian's death?" 

Jessica's mouth hung open slightly. "Um, well…" She sighed. "Honestly? No. You and Cristian were so in love. What you two had was true love. I really think that you two were the loves of each other's lives. Losing the love of your life -- it's probably just as hard to accept and deal with as the loss of a child." 

Natalie inhaled, "Your baby?" 

Jessica gave her a small sad smile, "My daughter, Megan. Everybody deals with their pain and grief a different way. For me, it was just easier to block it all out. I didn't remember being pregnant or ever being in love with…" 

"Cristian?" 

"Yeah. I even terrorized Dorian. Anyway, I eventually remembered everything and I dealt with Megan's death but the pain's still here," she said, pressing a hand to her chest. "It's always going to be here. And I don't think that there'll ever come a day when I don't think about Megan and try to picture what she'd look like now -- even after I have more children, I don't think that I'll ever stop thinking about her or loving her everyday. And I don't think that you're ever going to stop thinking about Cristian or loving him or missing him. Even if one day you meet someone else. Someone who manages to fight and win his way into your heart. You're never going to let go of Cristian. You're never going to forget." 

Natalie gazed down at her hands and began twisting the gold bands adorning her left ring finger, "That's never going to happen, you know?" She glanced up at her sister, "There's not enough room for another man in my heart. There never will be. It'll always be Cristian." 

Jessica crossed the room and took her twin's hands in her own, "You don't know that. It might be a long time -- a very, very long time -- before you're ready to let another man anywhere near your heart, but that day will come." A smile spread across her lips, "It's come for mom a few times." 

Natalie smiled in spite of herself. 

Jessica pulled her into a hug, "You'll get through this. I know you will. It just takes time." 

  



	3. Part 3

  
**Note:** See Part 1 for all pertinent info and the disclaimer.  
  


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**Part 3   
  
Thursday, November 6, 2003  
Foxy Roxy's Hair Haven**   


Natalie slowly pushed the door open and walked inside. 

"We're not open yet," Roxy Balsom hollered from the back. 

"It's just me." 

Roxy peeked at her from behind the partition, "What are you doing here?" 

"I work here." 

"Well, no duh, Einstein. I mean, _why_ are you here?" 

"Because I have bills to pay and I need money to pay them and in order to earn the money to pay my bills I have to work," Natalie explained as she walked across the room and took her coat off before placing it and her purse in the back room. 

"Hey, kiddo, I thought I told you not to worry about that. They don't call it paid leave for nothin', you know." 

Natalie walked over to her work station and tied her supply apron around her waist, "I've taken enough time off as it is. Besides, maybe it'll be good for me. Working will take my mind off of other things." 

"Yeah but what happens when a customer starts yakking about her love life and you start thinking about Cristian and burst into tears? That's not gonna be good for business." 

"Gee, Roxy, it's always nice to know that you have so much faith in my professional ability." 

Roxy ambled over to her, "Oh, c'mon, Natty. You just lost your husband. The man you loved more than anything in this world. And you'd just gotten married. You didn't even get to celebrate your one week anniversary and what would have been your one month anniversary is just around the corner --" 

Natalie stared at her, "Are you trying to make me feel better or worse? Because if you're trying to make me feel better, you're doing a terrible job. But if you're trying to make me feel worse, you're succeeding." 

Roxy frowned, "Aw, I didn't mean to bring you down." She scratched her head, "I'm not too good at this sort of thing. I'm only saying that you might need to take a little more time for yourself. You don't go from locking yourself in your room and crying your eyes out one day to coloring hair and filing nails the next." 

"That was last week, Roxy. Everyone, including you, has told me that I can't just stay locked up by myself. Besides, the last thing I need is for everyone to start watching me and wondering when I'm going to have a breakdown and that's exactly what they're going to start doing if I don't at least try to get back into the swing of things." 

Roxy shrugged, "If you say so." She started to turn around when she stopped and placed a hand on Natalie's arm, "Hey, listen, if things start getting a little rough for you today --" 

"I'll be okay, Roxy," she insisted. "But thanks for caring." 

"It's the least I can do, right?" 

  


****** 

  


Roxy skimmed through the appointment book, "You can take off for lunch now." 

"I'm not hungry," Natalie said as she flipped through a magazine, lounging in a chair. 

"Ya gotta eat, honey." 

She looked up at her, "Who said I wasn't eating?" 

"No one. But, you know, sometimes, some people don't eat when they're upset." 

"I'm just not hungry right now." 

"Well, in that case, I'll be back in half an hour." Roxy untied the strings on her apron and tossed it onto a chair before grabbing her coat and purse. 

"Alright." 

Roxy paused when she reached the door and looked over her shoulder at Natalie, "You sure you'll be okay alone? Maybe I should wait until Janelle gets back from her doctor's appointment." 

Natalie rolled her eyes, "I'm fine. Just go." 

"I'm going," Roxy said as she walked out of the salon. 

Natalie watched the door close and sighed. She resumed flipping through the magazine. It had been several minutes since Roxy had left when she suddenly had the strange feeling that she was being watched. She lifted her head and looked out the front window to see her Uncle Commissioner Bo Buchanan standing in Angel Square talking to another police officer and John McBain. _They must be discussing the serial killer case_, she thought as she turned her attention back to the magazine. A few seconds later she felt like she was being watched again and looked up to see John glancing in her general direction as he continued talking with her uncle. 

"Why did the crime scene have to be so close to my place of work?" Natalie muttered as she threw down the magazine and pushed herself up out of the chair. She walked into the back to escape his view and flopped down into a chair. She laid her head back and closed her eyes. _Why does everyone feel like they need to watch me? I lived my life day by day before I even knew that Cristian Vega existed and I can live my life again now that he's gone. I'm a fighter, I'm strong, I can do this. I --_

"Natalie?" She opened her eyes and there was Marcie Walsh with a concerned look on her face. "Didn't you hear me calling?" 

Natalie blinked and sat up, "I guess not." 

A sympathetic smile appeared on Marcie's face as she confided, "Sometimes I like to be by myself so that I can just zone out and think about Al. Remember the good times that we had. Even though we weren't together that long." 

Natalie studied her for a moment. "How are you, Marcie?" 

Marcie looked a little surprised, "Me? I'm doing good. Shouldn't I be asking you that? How are you doing?" 

Natalie sighed, "I'm not really sure. Sometimes…" 

"Sometimes you just want crawl into a hole and die and sometimes you want to beat the people or person you hold responsible for your pain into a bloody pulp?" Marcie offered. 

Natalie allowed herself to smile, "Yeah. Something like that." 

"It'll get easier, I promise." 

Natalie glanced down at the floor then she looked back up at Marcie as she stood, "Are you here for something?" 

"Just meeting my brother. We're having lunch at the diner. Would you like to join us?" 

"No. But thanks." 

Marcie nodded, "Okay. Well, you know, if you ever want to talk -- I mean, I kinda know what you're going through -- in a way -- so, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here." 

"I'll keep that in mind." 

"Hey, Marce," Ron Walsh said as he walked in through the back door. "You ready to go?" He noticed Natalie, "Hi. I'm sorry to hear about your husband." 

Natalie forced a smile, "Thanks." 

Ron turned his attention back to Marcie, "You ready?" 

"Yeah." 

Ron walked to the front of the salon and waited at the door. 

Marcie shifted, "I meant what I said. If you ever want someone to talk to, someone who understands --" 

"I'll let you know." 

"'Kay. Bye." 

"Bye." Natalie heard the door close and walked back around to the front. She glanced out the window and was relieved to see that John was no longer out there and let her eyes wander to the angel statue. "When is it going to get easier, Cristian?" 

  



	4. Part 4

  
**Note:** See Part 1 for all pertinent info and the disclaimer.  
  


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**Part 4   
  
Saturday, November 8, 2003  
Ultra Violet**   


Natalie sat in a sparsely populated area near the back of the dimly lit club, swirling a straw around in her drink. Rex Balsom had insisted that she come over and had tried to tempt her with the promise of free drinks for the entire night. Like drinking would solve any of her problems. Although the distraction of an alcohol induced haze might help her forget -- no matter how temporary -- that her world seemed like it was crumbling around her. It was one thing Natalie had witnessed many times, growing up with Roxy; getting drunk might not fix anything but it sure as hell made it easier to forget whatever was troubling you. So she sat there, half-listening to Midnight Logic perform, sipping her third screwdriver of the evening, content that no one seemed to notice her. 

Well, no one aside from Rex and apparently her cousin Sarah "Flash" Roberts who made a bee line straight for her as soon as the band finished their set. "Hey, Natalie. Sorry I haven't been by much. I've been really busy with rehearsals and recordings, and Great Grandpa Asa has hired a personal tutor for me because if I don't work on getting my diploma, no singing with the band." Flash stopped her animated rambling and took a breath, "So…how've you been doing?" 

"I've had better days. I've had worse." 

Flash sort of bobbed her head a little, "Yeah, but you're hanging in there though, right?" 

"I'm getting by." 

"Um…is there going to be a funeral or a memorial service for Cristian?" 

_Funeral. Memorial service. For Cristian. Because he's dead. Cristian's dead._ Natalie felt the tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked a couple of times and took a gulp of her drink before she answered, "We're waiting for the FBI to release his body." 

"Oh. Well, you know, if there's anything you need or if you want to hang out or something…" 

"I'll give you a call." 

"Okay." Flash stood there for a moment, fidgeting a little before she leaned down and gave Natalie a quick, awkward hug. The motive behind the hug was easily deciphered: I don't know you very well but you're family and this seems like the right thing to do at the moment. 

Flash gave her a smile, which she politely returned, before making her way back over to the stage. 

Natalie closed her eyes as she downed the rest of her drink then slowly exhaled. She stood and walked to the bar where Rex was waiting for her, drink in hand. 

"I'd tell you to pace yourself but you definitely have the right to drink yourself into oblivion," he said, about to hand her the drink, "Just not into the hospital, or, God forbid, the morgue." He gave her the drink, "I'm keeping an eye on you, sis." 

_You and everyone else._ She ran a finger around the rim of the glass, "I really appreciate this, Rex. You trying to help take my mind off of things." 

"Hey, what are little brothers for? Besides, another drink and you'll probably be pleasantly blitzed. I mean, you've never been a heavy drinker, Natty." He glanced down the bar at a few impatient patrons. "I gotta --" 

Natalie looked at the rowdy group at the other end of the bar. "Yeah, no, go, I'm fine. I'll just be back over there," she gestured at the area she'd just come from with her drink in hand. 

She was pleased to find that no one had taken her seat and that there were even less people in the back than there had been before. She took a sip of her screwdriver and let her eyes roam around the club. When her eyes reached the door they stopped. John McBain stood at the entrance, scanning the crowd gathered at the stage. "Just what my night needed," Natalie grumbled, taking another drink. _Maybe if I'm lucky, he won't see me. Yeah, right._

Natalie watched him move to the bar and noted Rex's hesitation to serve him. A feeling of dread passed over her when she saw Rex briefly glance at her then shake his head. _Oh God, he's looking for me._

As Rex moved down the bar to serve another customer, John turned around and began surveying the entire room. Natalie quickly looked away and ducked her head, hoping that he wouldn't see her. She took a long drink. 

_If there's a God in Heaven, please, just let me spend the rest of this night in peace without being reminded again of the fact that I'm a widow. Please. Please. Pl --_

The sound of John clearing his throat caused her to sigh, feeling defeated. She looked up, eyeing him wearily. 

"I thought you should know that Flynn's dead." 

She shook her head, trying to clear the cloud that seemed to be rapidly forming around her brain, "Are you sure?" 

"Positive. There was a scuffle between him and Walker on the private elevator at Walker's penthouse. Walker knocked Flynn unconscious and managed to get off the elevator, however, he left Flynn in there. There was a malfunction and the elevator ended up crashing to the bottom floor. Fortunately for all of us, Flynn didn't survive." 

Natalie lowered her head and closed her eyes, trying to get her bearings. Was it really possible? Was Flynn actually dead? 

As she opened her eyes she noticed that her glass was empty. "But you're sure that Flynn's dead? I mean, he and Walker are twins. _Identical_ twins. Flynn could've --" 

"It's Flynn," he said firmly. "You don't have to worry about him coming after you or your family." 

"Well, I wouldn't have had to worry about that in the first place if it wasn't for you," Natalie hissed. She pushed herself up, hoping she wouldn't lose her balance, and turned, about to walk away, "If that's all --" 

"There's something else." 

She let out an exasperated sigh and turned to face him, "What?" 

John glanced at the floor for a moment before attempting to look her in the eye, "Blair Manning said that Flynn told her that Cristian saved his life. That Cris pulled him out of the lake and then he killed him." 

The words echoed in Natalie's mind as her vision blurred. _Cristian saved Flynn. Flynn killed Cristian. Cristian was killed. Cristian is dead._ The room began to spin and she blinked repeatedly in hopes that her vision would clear. 

She heard John's voice, "Natalie, are you okay?" 

She blinked again as she felt her legs start to give way beneath her. A pair arms caught her as she began to sway. 

"I've got you," John said as he held her steady. 

She allowed herself a moment to lean against him as her vision finally started to clear and her legs began to feel solid again. 

"Hey, let's sit you down for a minute." 

Natalie's eyes shot open and she jerked away from him, "I don't need your help. The only thing I need for you to do is to stay away from me. I'm not saying that I expect you to leave if we happen to both show up at the same place but you could at least be respectful enough of my wishes to keep your distance and not bother me." 

He nodded, "I'll try my best." 

She curtly replied, "Thank you." 

"Least I can do now." 

Natalie turned around and headed for the ladies' room, suddenly feeling queasy. 

_Never drink on an empty stomach._ She remembered a drunken Roxy telling her that when she was little. 

Natalie walked into the ladies' room. She stood in front of the sink and stared at her reflection as she braced herself, holding on to the edge of the sink. She swallowed and closed her eyes, praying that her stomach would stop churning. 

When was the last time she'd eaten more than a couple bites of a sandwich or -- or _anything_ for that matter? 

From behind her, a catty voice asked, "You certainly didn't waste too much time mourning Cristian's death before you moved on, did you?" 

_I am in Hell._ She opened her eyes and turned around to see Jennifer Rappaport Balsom Buchanan standing at the door. She narrowed her eyes at her, "Excuse me?" 

Jen smirked as she sashayed over to the sink next to Natalie, "I saw you with that guy. You know, the one with the long dark hair. And don't try to deny that there's something going on between the two of you. I saw the way you just _eased_ into his arms." 

"I was dizzy, he caught me." 

"Yeah, right." 

"Not everyone drinks as much as you do, Jen. We don't all have your tolerance for alcohol and God knows what else," Natalie sneered. 

Jen tossed her hair back, "Whatever. That whole 'dizzy spell' thing is, like, one of the oldest tricks in the book." The corners of her mouth curled up in a cruel smile as she turned to face Natalie, "So, how long did you wait until you hopped into bed with him? It's kind of funny, don't you think? Or is it ironic? Which ever. You're such a hypocrite, Natalie, you know that? You jumped all over me for marrying Joe, who I've loved since I first saw him, so soon after my divorce to Rex, who I never loved. And you," she snorted, "You claimed to have loved Cristian so much yet you're already fooling around with some guy and Cristian's body isn't even in the grou --" 

Natalie slapped her hard across the face as the tears stung her eyes, "Don't you _dare_ try to say that I don't love Cristian. Don't you dare assume that you know anything about what Cristian and I felt for each other. I love him more than you'll ever love anyone -- anyone other than yourself. And that 'guy' you saw me talking to is the man responsible for getting Cristian killed. I will never _ever_ forgive him for that. So whatever you _think_ you may have seen was all a figment of your sick imagination." 

Jen just gawked at her, shocked that she had actually hit her. 

Natalie turned on her heels and stormed out. After the door swung closed behind her, she paused, placing her hand on the wall, and took a deep breath, trying not to cry. She gathered herself and made her way to the bar, "Rex, I want to go home. Can you call me a cab? Please?" 

Rex took one look into her eyes and saw the tears that were threatening to spill. He shook his head, "Uh-uh. No way. I'll take you." 

"You have a club to run." 

Rex walked out from behind the bar, "So? Family comes first. Always." 

"Thank you," she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. 

He kissed her on the forehead and put an arm around her as he led her out. "I'm sorry this night turned out to be a bust." 

"It's not your fault," she assured him as they walked to his car. 

"You're gonna beat this, Natty." 

"I hope so." 

  



	5. Part 5

  
**Note:** See Part 1 for all pertinent info and the disclaimer.  
  


* * *

  
  
**Part 5   
  
Tuesday, November 11, 2003  
Llanfair**   


After listening to her mother, Victoria Lord Davidson, and her mother-in-law, Carlotta Vega, make the arrangements for Cristian's memorial service, Natalie wandered into the kitchen and sat down at the table, completely oblivious to her brother Joseph Buchanan standing at the counter by the stove. 

Joe stepped out of the corner, "Hey, you hungry?" He gestured at a platter on the counter, "I just finished making some sandwiches." 

Natalie looked up at him, surprise registering on her face for a split second, "No. I'm not hungry." 

"That seems to be your answer every time I ask you." He grabbed a clean plate and took one of the sandwiches off of the platter and put it on the plate. He walked over to the table and placed the plate in front of her, "Well, every time anyone asks you." He sat down, ignoring the fact that she cut her eyes at him, "And, yes, I've been asking around. You need to eat." 

"I'm not hungry," she repeated, folding her arms across her chest and fixing her eyes on the wall. 

"One sandwich, that's all I'm asking." Joey sat forward and pushed the plate closer to her. "Come on, when was the last time you ate?" 

Natalie blinked and looked at him. She rolled her eyes as she tore off a small piece of the sandwich and stuffed it in her mouth. After chewing and swallowing, "Happy?" 

Joey sat back, "Not yet. But that's a start." 

"Are you going to sit here and watch me eat the whole thing?" 

"Yes." 

"Fine," Natalie huffed, pulling off another small section of the sandwich. 

The kettle on the stove whistled and Joey got up and went to the stove. He prepared two cups of tea then brought them over to the table, placing one by the plate in front of Natalie. He sat back down and watched in silence as his sister slowly consumed the rest of the sandwich, both occasionally taking sips of their tea. 

Natalie pushed the plate away and stared into her tea. Her stomach flip flopped and grumbled, disturbed by the foreign presence of food yet hungry for more. After several flip flops, her stomach lurched and she ran to the bathroom. She emerged a minute later. 

Joey had pulled out his bible. "Feel better?" 

She leaned against the wall, "Not really." 

"So, I talked to this guy who specializes in grief counseling --" 

She pushed herself off the wall and walked toward the door, "I'm really not in the mood for any motivational speeches right now, Joe, so if you don't mind --" 

He closed the bible. "You're having a tough time dealing with this, I understand. You just lost your husband. Losing the person you planned to spend the rest of your life with -- it's absolutely heartbreaking. And people deal with their pain differently. When I lost Kelly --" 

Natalie looked at him, outraged, "What? You and Kelly got a divorce! Yeah, Kelly's married to someone else, as are you, but Kelly is still alive. Cristian isn't. You can still see Kelly. You can still talk to her. You can still touch her." Her voice began to tremble, "I will never _ever_ be able to see or talk to or touch my husband ever again. He's gone! He's _dead_!" 

Joey stood and walked over to her, "Okay, bad example, I'm sorry. I just -- I want to help you, Natalie." 

She calmed, "I know. I'm sorry for yelling at you." 

"Don't be! Whatever you've feeling, let it out, let it all out. Having an outlet, it's good. But be careful not to…" 

"Not to what?" 

Joey sighed, "Not to go too far with it. Jen said that you hit her the other night." 

Natalie took a step away from him, "Jen was asking for it. She accused me of being unfaithful to Cristian." 

"What? Before he died? Why would Jen th --" 

"No, now." 

Joey looked taken aback. "Natalie…" 

"I know, he's dead. But that doesn't mean that I don't love him anymore and it doesn't mean that I'm going to move on." She walked over to the staircase and leaned against the banister. She looked at Joey, "How do you move on when the one person you love more than life itself is taken from you? How do you accept that you'll never see them again?" 

"But you will." Joey picked his bible back up, "You have to trust that one day, after you have lived your life, that when it's your time -- when you die -- that you and Cris will be reunited." 

"And what if I don't want to wait that long?" 

Joey was startled by her cryptic tone. He crossed the room and took her by the shoulders, "Natalie, you can't give up hope. You can't give up on life. You have to believe. You _have_ to have faith that things will get better. No matter how dark and dismal things -- _life_ -- may seem now, there will come the day that you're going to wake up and the sun will be shining and you're going to take a deep breath and realize that your heart doesn't feel nearly as heavy as it is does now. It won't be as hard or as painful to smile. It'll be easier to laugh. You'll feel _good_. But most of all, you'll feel alive." 

Natalie glanced away, "They teach you all that babble in seminary school?" 

"Some of it. But most of it came from the heart." 

She looked at him, "You don't know what I'm going through and you don't know what I'm feeling. I know you mean well and that you _want_ to help but you can't. Because you don't know." 

Joey backed away, "Well maybe you should talk to someone who knows exactly what you're going through and everything you're feeling -- Mom." 

"Has anyone considered that maybe I don't want to talk?" she snapped. "That for right now I just want to be alone with my feelings?" 

He shrugged, "Then why do you come around? Why do you lash out?" 

"Because it's easier to be angry and if I don't come around then everyone will be trying to break down the door at the cottage to check on me and I won't get a minute's peace!" Natalie yelled. Her features softened as she took a deep breath then let it out. "It's easier to be angry. And it's easier to be alone." 

"Is it?" 

"Why are you doing this?" 

"What? Trying to get through to you so that I can help you?" 

"Yes." 

Joey slumped down in a chair. "Maybe I feel a little guilty for not being around for you during the whole Mitch fiasco. Or before with Niki Smith. Or at all." 

Natalie bit her bottom lip and stared out the window. 

He quickly added, "But mostly it's because I care about you. You are my sister and I love you. Yes, I regret not having supported you in the past -- after I first found out about you and when I was dealing with my own pain. And I regret not being able to make any of the pain you felt then easier to bear." 

"Better late than never, huh?" 

"Better to have tried than to have stood idly by." 

Natalie looked at him, "I'm not ready yet. I'm not ready for everyone to 'help' me through this. Can you accept that? Can you just let me be for now? I ate the sandwich like you asked." 

Joey nodded, "Sure. If that's what you want." 

"Thank you." Natalie turned and left through the kitchen door. 

  



	6. Part 6 Tissue Warning

  
**Note:** See Part 1 for all pertinent info and the disclaimer.  
  


* * *

  
  
**Part 6   
  
Friday, November 14, 2003  
Llanfair**   


The memorial service for Cristian Vega took place at eleven that morning at St. Jude's Church. Afterwards, a parade of family, friends, and other visitors made their way to and through the mansion to offer their condolences -- again. 

"I am truly sorry for your loss, Natalie. I, myself, have endured the status of widowhood and the anguish that accompanies it a few times," Dorian Cramer Lord paused and sniffled dramatically as she gazed at nothing in the library, "Losing the man you loved.… The pain never really goes away. Not completely. And neither do the memories." She looked at Natalie, "Remember that. Remember the good times you had with your beloved Cristian. Hold on to them, cherish them. They are all you have left now." 

_Like I really need another reminder._

It took everything in her for Natalie not to roll her eyes or snap at the older woman but to nod her head wordlessly. 

"If you'll excuse me, I really should say a few words to Carlotta. She must be having as terrible a time dealing with Cristian's death as you are. If not more so." And with that, Dorian sauntered across the room toward Carlotta. 

Natalie was heading over to get something to drink when her path was intercepted by Rae Cummings. 

_Great._

"Natalie, I am so incredibly sorry for your loss. I know that you are going through a _terrible_ ordeal. The loss that you've suffered…" Rae trailed off, shaking her head sadly. "I just want you know that my door is always open if you ever need to talk." 

Natalie quirked an eyebrow, "No offense, Dr. Cummings, I know that you actually have a degree and a license now, but you are one of the last people I'd talk to about what I'm going through." 

Rae frowned, "Okay. I understand that after that incident with Niki Smith last year that maybe I'm not someone you trust all that much. Well, I can always refer you to one of my associates. You just let me know --" 

"Yeah, I'll do that," Natalie said, her tone dismissive. 

She watched Rae skulk away. She hadn't meant to be rude but what had Dr. Cummings been thinking? _Like I'd want to confide in _or_ receive advice from the woman who unleashed Niki Smith on me._

Roxy came up behind Natalie and draped an arm around her, "Hey, baby, how are you holding up?" 

"I'm holding." 

"You know, practically half the town shut down today so that people could be here." 

"Yeah, I know." 

"Cristian was a good guy. And he was a great artist. A lot of people are gonna miss him. That's why they're here. To pay their respects." 

When Natalie didn't respond, Roxy took her silence as an indication to leave her be so she did. 

  


******

  


As the sun began to set outside, Natalie stood by a closed set of French doors, winding a rosary around her fingers, thinking about that morning. 

  


_"I want you to have this," Carlotta said shortly before the service began as she pressed the rosary into Natalie's open hand. "It was Cristian's first rosary. You should have it. I want you to have it." _

Natalie looked at the rosary laying in her palm then back up at her mother-in-law, "I can't -- you should keep this." 

Carlotta shook her head, "No." She placed her hand over Natalie's and closed her fingers around the rosary as she started to cry, "I have my faith. You, you have Cristian's." 

Natalie's eyes began to tear up and she nodded her head. 

Carlotta embraced her and whispered into her ear, "We will make it through this, mi hija. God has a plan. He has a plan for all of us. We must always believe that." She stood back and looked at her daughter-in-law, "Bendicen los que están de luto, porque los comforter," then gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

  


Natalie felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see her grandfather, Asa Buchanan, standing next to her. 

"Natalie." 

"Grandpa." 

"Your Pa's sorry that he couldn't make it. But he'll drop in for a visit as soon as he gets a chance." 

She looked down, closing her hand and squeezing the rosary, "Yeah." 

Asa moved his hand under her chin and tilted her head up so that she was looking him in the eye, "_You_ are a _Buchanan_ and _Buchanans always_ bounce back. _Always_. There is _nothing_ in this world that we can't conquer." His hand dropped back to her shoulder, "You are gonna get through this just fine. We'll make sure that you do." 

Natalie was just as surprised as she was touched by her grandfather's words of support. The odd thing was that she wanted to hug him, she did, but that she couldn't bring herself to do it. She knew that if she did she'd start bawling and then she'd have to put up with everyone trying to console her and that just wasn't what she wanted. So instead she nodded her head like she had so many times already that afternoon and blinked back the tears. 

Natalie caught a glimpse of something moving out on the terrace out of the corner of her eye and turned her head. 

Her brother-in-law Antonio Vega stepped inside and gave her a reassuring smile as he walked past her to join his mother and her sister by the fireplace. 

She watched him lean over and whisper something in Carlotta's ear. Carlotta looked up and seemed to peer outside then smile graciously and nod her head in acknowledgment. 

Curious, Natalie turned around and walked out onto the terrace in time to John's retreating figure about to walk around the corner of the house. "Trying to make a clean get away?" 

He stopped and turned around, "I just wanted to pay my respects." 

"Which is why you were lurking around in the bushes?" she asked sarcastically. 

"I didn't think I'd be too welcome inside." 

"You got that part right." 

He sighed. "I know that you're always going to blame me for what happened -- hey, I blame myself -- but you have to know that I am sorry. For everything." 

Her eyes blazed, "I swear, if you tell me you're sorry one more time, I'm not going to be held accountable for my actions. Your being sorry doesn't help. And it doesn't matter, okay? 'Sorry' doesn't bring Cristian back. It won't. It can't. So just stop telling me that you're sorry!" She was on the verge of tears. 

"Okay." He paused for a moment. "I'll leave now." 

Natalie sniffled. "You do that." 

She watched him walk away then took a deep breath and closed her eyes. _I will not break down. I will not break down. I will not break down._

She exhaled and opened her eyes. She stepped closer to the edge of the terrace towards the garden and sighed. She walked deeper into the garden and began to remember. 

  


_She had been ready to run away from him -- trying to -- as they'd stood in the garden on that night in July. _

"I have to handle this on my own," she had insisted. "You know, in fact, we should say goodbye now. I want you to go." 

He had shaken his head, "I'm not going anywhere." 

"Cris, please. This is hard enough as it is." 

"Natalie, I'm --" 

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me!" 

He had made no attempt to leave so she'd begun to walk away then she'd stopped, her emotions in a jumble. He'd quickly walked over to her, "I'm not going to leave you alone with this. Natalie, I'm going to be with you, okay? I'm going to help you." 

She'd wanted to believe that he could help her. That everything would turn out all right. That he'd still be there for her when it was all over. But she knew that he wouldn't be with her. He would be with -- 

It had been a shock to her entire system. He'd taken her face in his hands and kissed her. Dear God, he was kissing her. And she was melting. 

She had wanted the rest of the entire world to just fade away. She had wanted the kiss to last forever. The moment. She had wanted to believe that it meant something to him. But then he'd pulled away. And apologized. 

  


Natalie sighed. If only they hadn't spent so much time fighting their feelings and dancing around in circles. If she'd known then that he _did_ want to be with her. Maybe things would be different. Maybe they would've been able to be together so much sooner. Maybe Cristian would still be alive. 

Natalie looked up at the sky, searching for a star. Either it was too early for any to be visible or it was too cloudy. She continued to gaze up at the heavens, "Where are you now, Cristian? You said you weren't going anywhere. Where are you now? I _need_ you now." 

The only response she received was the wind, causing her to shiver. She sighed and headed back for the house and found her sister-in-law Kelly Cramer Buchanan standing on the terrace. 

Kelly smiled, "Hey, where've you been?" 

"I needed to get some air." 

"Oh, I can't even _begin_ to imagine what you're going through, Natalie. And the way you're staying so strong. I just know that I'd be absolutely beside myself if anything ever happened to Kevin. I don't know how you do it," Kelly marveled. 

"One day at a time, right? Just like everything else." Natalie was grateful that at least Kelly wasn't trying compare any pain she'd felt with what she was feeling now. She walked past Kelly back inside the mansion and ran into her brother, Kevin. 

"Natalie, I am so sorry that I haven't been around much. With elections and everything -- you understand." 

_Not really but whatever._

"Uh huh." 

"You know, Cristian quit working for me just before your final game. I'd asked him to do a job for me. It seems so insignificant now. He'd said that you were more important. He was right." Kevin stepped closer to her and hugged her. "He truly loved you." 

Natalie didn't really know what to say so she just said, "Thanks." 

Kevin nodded his head and stepped aside. 

Natalie looked at all of the people in the room. She took a long deep breath. _I can do this. I _can_ do this._

Her Uncle Bo made his way over to her. He gave her a sympathetic look. "You don't have to say anything to me. I just want you to know, anytime you need me, I'm here." 

Natalie smiled, "Thank you." 

"_Anytime_, Natalie. I mean that." He gave her a kiss on the cheek and gently squeezed her hand. 

_See, I can handle this_, she thought as she slowly made her way towards her mother. As she passed by Joe, she overheard his mother-in-law, Lindsay Rappaport say to him, "It was a very nice service. I thought you did a wonderful job." 

Natalie froze. _It was a very nice service? Is there something _nice_ about my husband being dead? Because if he wasn't dead, there wouldn't have been any service, nice or otherwise. But he is. Cristian _is_ dead. Cristian is dead._

She blinked and glanced around the room. _He's dead and that's why all of these people are here. I have to get out of here._

Natalie blinked again as her eyes were filling with tears. She turned around and briskly walked out of the library, brushing past several people. She had to get away. She _had to_. She was practically running, blindly through the house until she found herself in the sun room and she collapsed in a wicker chair. 

It hadn't exactly been a conscious decision to go there but it made some sense. When people realized she was missing, the first places they would check would be her old room, the kitchen, and outside. It would provide her with several more minutes of peace before a member of the well-meaning search party that was sure to form would find her there. 

Natalie felt the tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. _I just need a few minutes to myself and I'll be alright. I'll be fine. Because I can do this. And I will. I just need a few minutes. A little time to breathe right now is just what I ne -- _

No, what I need is Cristian. I need him to be here with me. I need for this not to be happening. Why is this happening? 

Natalie didn't notice the sob that had escaped or that the speed at which her tears were slipping free was increasing. 

She heard her mother's voice from the hall, "Natalie, darling?" 

Natalie sniffled and called, "I'm in here." 

Viki entered the room, "I was getting worried about you." Although Natalie's head was down, it didn't take long for her to see that her daughter was crying. "Oh, sweetheart." She pulled a chair closer to Natalie's and sat down. She placed her hand on Natalie's arm, "Darling, do you want to talk?" 

She looked up at Viki and shook her head, "Mom, I couldn't stay in there with all those people. If I hear one more person commenting on how nice the service was, I'm going to scream. There is nothing _nice_ about the fact that Cristian is dead. And if anyone else tells me how sorry they are, I think I'm going to start pulling my hair out. Why do people do that anyway? And it's not like they really mean it. They do but they don't. It's not like anyone's glad that I lost Cristian. That he's dead. So why does everyone keep telling me how sorry they are? They can't change what happened. And you're sorry when you regret something. What do they regret exactly? The fact that Cristian's dead? That they didn't get to know him better? That they ever wished for some misfortune to befall either one of us?" 

"They don't know what else to say. They have no idea what you're feeling but they feel like they should say something, anything really, in hopes that it may help you feel better." 

The tears steadily rolled down her face, "But nothing anyone says is going to help. Nothing anyone says is going to make my life any better or make any of this easier to bear. Unless it's that a mistake was made and that Cristian is really alive and he's coming home to me. That's the only thing. But that's not going to happen, is it?" 

Viki sniffled and swallowed. "No, sweetheart, I don't think it will." 

Natalie stood and began to pace, "Why did this happen to me? What did I do so wrong that this had to happen? Was I too happy? Is that it? Does God just not want me to be happy? Did he look down and say, 'Gee, that Natalie Buchanan is way too happy and I don't think she's suffered enough. Let me take her husband from her. That'll teach her.' Lord knows I was never happy when I was growing up. I thought I'd been happy with Seth. I thought that finding my real family and getting what was rightfully mine would make me happy. But I was never truly happy until I met Cristian. When he told me that he was in love with me last year -- I don't remember ever having felt as -- God, I can't even describe it -- but just that feeling at that moment…. I could have died happy. I had never felt anything like I did at that moment. And then when we first made love, I felt so warm inside. I felt whole. I knew that he completed me. I knew that we were meant to be together forever. And when he proposed…knowing that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with _me_…. I have never been as happy as I was when Cristian and I got married. And now I'll never be that happy again. I'll never be anywhere _near_ that happy. I'll have nothing to compare it to. There won't be any moments to rival it." 

Natalie sucked in a breath, "We're never going to have children. I'll never have Cristian's children. He's never going to be a father. We'll never have a family. All of our dreams, the plans we'd made, they're gone." 

Viki felt her composure slipping as her daughter continued. 

"WHY THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN?" Natalie flung the rosary she'd been clutching in her hand across the room. It flew through a window; the glass shattered. "Why? I just -- I want to know why." 

Viki stood and stepped closer to Natalie. 

She began to tremble, "It's not fair. It's _not_ fair. And it's wrong. It's just so wrong. Cristian should _not_ be dead. He should be here. He should be right here with me. And we should be happy. And this shouldn't be happening. I don't -- I don't understand. I hate this. I HATE IT! And I'm so angry. I am just so…_pissed_ at him." 

"Who, honey? John McBain?" 

Natalie's red eyes widened as she faced her mother, "Cristian. I am so pissed off at him. I don't -- I can't stand the thought of being mad at him but I am. Oh, God, I am so livid with Cristian. And I shouldn't be. But -- he left me. _He left me._ And he was supposed to love me enough that he would never leave. Nothing was supposed to be able to take him away from me or to keep him away. Maybe he lied about how much he loved me." 

Viki reached out for her, "Oh no, Natalie, honey, that's not true. Cristian loved you so much -- more than anyone else in this world -- and you know that. You know that. He gave his life so that you would be safe. So that you would live. That's how much he loved you." 

Natalie's eyes and voice became distant, "I never asked him to help me or protect me or save me. But he always did. He always wanted to. I didn't ask him to save me. I didn't want him to save me. I knew he'd try to because that's what he always does. But he wasn't supposed to sacrifice his life for me. He wasn't supposed to do that. He wasn't supposed to be such a good guy that he'd rescue the man who'd kidnapped me, threatened my life, and had ordered someone to kill him. He wasn't supposed to do that. He shouldn't have done that. He should've just let Flynn drown. Why did he have to save him? Why couldn't he have let Flynn die? Why couldn't he have just let the FBI handle things? Everything would be different. Cristian wouldn't be dead. And I wouldn't feel this way. I hate feeling this way. I feel so cold and alone. And I hate that. And I wouldn't feel this way if Cristian was still here. But he's not. He's dead. He's dead. Cristian is dead." 

Natalie stared at the palm of her hand, the one she'd held the rosary in. The imprints of the beads and the crucifix still deeply etched in her skin along with a few drops of blood from her nails digging into her skin. _Blood. I'm bleeding. Cristian will never bleed again. Because he's dead. He's dead._ Her breathing became hitched, "Cristian's dead. Cristian is dead. Mom, Cristian's dead." 

Viki nodded, crying, "Yes, baby." 

Natalie shook her head, a fresh batch of tears ready to spill; her voice was frantic, "No, Mom, you don't understand. He's dead. And he's never coming back. I'm never going to be with him again. We're not going to be together. Because he's gone. Cristian's gone. Cristian's dead. Oh my God, Cristian's dead," she wailed as she crumbled to the floor. 

Viki kneeled down beside her and gathered her in her arms, "It's okay, baby." 

"No it's not! It's not ever going to be okay. Cristian is dead. There's nothing okay with that! I'm never going to be okay!" She let out a sob. "I can't do this, Mom. I can not do this. I thought I could but I can't. I can't. I just can't --" another sob choked out, followed by another, and Natalie finally gave herself over to all the tears she had refused to let herself cry as she clung to her mother. 

"That's right, baby. Just let it out. Let it all out," Viki soothed, stroking Natalie's hair as she rocked her back and forth. 

  
  
**Note:** The bit in Spanish is one of The Beatitudes. Translation (the Spanish was courtesy of AltaVista's Babel Fish Translation Service so if it's off it's not my fault, I only took one semester of Spanish and that was years ago): _Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted._ And the dialogue from the Crisalie flashback was from the July 15, 2002 episode. 


	7. Part 7

  
**Note:** See Part 1 for all pertinent info and the disclaimer.  
  


* * *

  
  
**Part 7   
  
Thursday, November 20, 2003  
Angel Square Diner**   


Natalie sat across from Marcie at a booth in the back of the diner. "You know, everyone's been trying to keep me busy all week long. Trying to keep me too preoccupied to really think about things." 

Marcie picked at her food, "I know how that goes." 

"Monday was my one month anniversary. And today -- it's been one month since Cristian was murdered." 

"You seem to be doing better." 

Natalie looked thoughtful for a moment. "Can I trust you? I mean, you're not going to let any of our conversation slip out during one of your buddy sessions with Jen, are you?" 

Marcie looked at her. A frowned crossed her features, "I would never tell anyone anything you don't want me too. I'm good at keeping secrets. And I'd never betray your confidence. You and I -- well, we're sort of friends -- right?" 

She smiled a little, "Yeah, I guess we are." 

"I won't tell Jen. Besides, I know that she wouldn't understand." 

Natalie nodded and began playing with her napkin. She spoke softly, "Last week, after the memorial service…I kind of had a little bit of a breakdown. I just -- I lost it." She watched as Marcie's eyes widened with concern. She continued, "I don't even know how long I cried. I do know that I cried myself to sleep and that my mom had my Uncle Bo carry me up the stairs to my old room. Anyway, she told me the next morning that it had been a good thing. That in letting go of everything that I'd been holding in now I can really begin to cope with losing Cristian and heal." 

Marcie smiled, "I think your mom's right. It is good that you got that out of your system. And hopefully now it will be easier to sort out your emotions." 

"I hope so. I don't know." Natalie stopped fiddling with the napkin and sat back, "In a way, my head does feel clearer. My heart, everything inside, still hurts like hell though." 

"You know, it's been two months since Al died and it still hurts me too. Al and I weren't even together as long as you and Cristian were." Marcie stared at the food left on her plate, "He was my first love. Sometimes I think that he'll be my only love. And I wonder if he'd want me to move on. To be with someone else." 

"I can't even begin to consider or comprehend being with someone who's _not_ Cristian. I know that he'd want me to be happy. But if the day ever comes that I fall in love again, with someone else, I think that he'd want me to embrace it. Just hold on and never let go." 

"After everything you two went through to be together and all the time you spent apart? I don't doubt it. He wouldn't want you to go through that kind of pain again," Marcie said, shaking her head. 

"Al wouldn't want that for you either." 

Marcie smiled, "I know. Before he died, he started up this memory book for me. Me and Mrs. Medina found it when we were cleaning out his dorm room. He had it all planned out too. Our life together -- milestones. Places for a wedding picture and for one of our first child -- a girl. Named after me." Marcie sighed wistfully. "It's so hard to believe that that'll never happen now." 

"Yeah," Natalie said, sounding morose as she resumed playing with the napkin, tearing off tiny strips. 

"Are you sure? I don't mean to pry, but there could be a chance --" 

Natalie looked at her, "I'm sure. No miracle baby or anything. It's okay though. In a way, I'm relieved. I know that I could raise a child by myself if I had to -- I was barely out of diapers when I had to take care of Rex when he was a baby. But having to raise a child without Cristian -- _his_ child that, knowing my luck, would probably be the spitting image of him -- I don't know how I'd be able to handle that. Looking into that child's eyes and seeing him, knowing that he or she will never know what a wonderful man their father was. They would never know him. I'm not sure I could do that." 

"Oh, Natalie, I'm so sorry." 

She furrowed her brow in confusion, "What for?" 

"You know, for thinking you were the bad guy, well, girl, last year. Helping Jen trick everyone into thinking that she was having Cristian's baby." 

"Marcie, it's okay. You've already apologized for that and I've forgiven you. You didn't know what was really going on." Her words became bitter, "All you had were the lies that Jen fed you." 

"But if I'd known that Cristian didn't love Jen as much as she loved him --" 

"Jen _didn't_ love Cristian," Natalie snapped. "She _never_ loved him. If she had -- _ever_ -- even just the tiniest bit -- she never would have tormented him the way she did." A few tears rolled down her cheeks, "She wouldn't have gone out and gotten pregnant by Al -- _on purpose_ -- so that she could rope him into a shotgun wedding and trap him in what would have been a loveless sham of a marriage. She wouldn't have lied to him about the baby. But she did, even after she miscarried and after Cristian broke up with her, she still let him believe, she continued to tell him that _they_ had lost a baby. And she denied Al the opportunity to openly celebrate the fact that _he_ was going to be a father and then to mourn the death of _his_ unborn child. Don't defend her or any of actions. Not to me, Marcie. And don't you dare say that anything she did was in the name of love because it wasn't. _Everything_ she did was in the name of _spite_ and _hate_ and _revenge_." Natalie wiped her tears away and took a deep breath. Calmer, "She never loved him. And I don't believe that she deserves your friendship." 

"Jen needs me," Marcie said quietly. "Everyone needs at least one friend, right? And I appeal to the good in her," Natalie snorted and Marcie gave her a look before continuing, "and there's a lot of good in her, it's just buried inside. Real deep. I know you don't get why I'm friends with Jen, especially after the way that she treated me last winter, but she has been there for me. Besides, she was the first real friend I made here in Llanview. The only one for while, actually. And…I think that I'm the only real friend she has right now." 

"Well I tried and I got burned. I tried being nice to her and she just spit in my face so I gave up. I don't even bother. But I refuse to let her walk all over me; I can dish it as well as I can take it. And if she insists on goading me then so be it. She'll get hers." 

"This is about what happened the other week at Ultra Violet, isn't it?" 

"She had no right to say what she did." 

"Well, I don't know for sure what she said but if it's gotten you this upset it couldn't have been good." 

They were both quiet for a few moments. 

Natalie groaned, "God, I am trying so hard to get through this -- all these feelings." 

"Maybe we should change the subject?" Marcie suggested. 

"Please." 

"Do you think that the Music Box Killer is still in town?" 

"I hope not." 

"Yeah, me too. It's just so scary, you know?" 

"Huh." 

Marcie looked at her, "What?" 

"There's some sicko out there killing women. It's just -- it is scary and it's horrible and I hope that the killer's caught soon -- but mostly so that John McBain will leave town. And I just realized how selfish and petty that is of me." 

Marcie chuckled, "Ah. Michael's brother the FBI agent. I don't really know him but if they're anything alike, I can understand you wanting him to be anywhere you're not." 

"What's up with you and Michael anyway? I've seen you two together quite a lot recently." 

It was Marcie's turn to groan. "I saved his life. Big mistake on my part. It's like he feels beholden to me. And the guy just can't take no for an answer. If anything the guy is persistent -- I'll give him that. But he's pretty much a jerk. He has his moments when he _seems_ like a decent human being. If he would just give me space, you know? Room to breathe. But he just smothers me." 

"Must run in the family." 

"You think so?" 

Natalie nodded, "His brother seems to have one hell of a guilt complex. And he won't stop trying to make things better. He doesn't get that he can't. He did what he did. No matter how sorry he is -- it won't change anything. And it'd be so much easier for me to deal with things if he'd just back off and I've asked him to do so. I mean, he is making an effort to stay away from me but he's still around and we keep running into each other." 

"You think he's looking for forgiveness?" 

"I honestly don't know what he wants. But if it is forgiveness that he's after, well, it's going to be a long time coming. So what about Michael? He just wants to pay you back?" 

"That and he claims to like me. I joined him for dinner one night and the guy thinks that we have some instant love connection. And it gets worse. The other week he actually blurted out that he loves me. _And_ he keeps showing up everywhere I go. The police station, the university, Ultra Violet. At least you've been able to keep his brother at bay." 

"Yeah, well, his brother's not hot for me like Michael is for you," Natalie teased, smiling. "I guess that's something to be grateful for." 

"You so sure about that?" Marcie teased back. 

"Don't go there, Marcie. Do _not_ go there." 

"What?" Marcie said innocently. "You said it yourself. You don't know what he wants. He could want you." 

Natalie's jaw dropped. "Then he's just going to have to do without." 

Marcie giggled. 

She balled up what remained of her napkin and threw it at Marcie, "That's not funny." 

Marcie ducked out of the way, "Yes it is." 

"Is not." 

"Is too." 

  



	8. Part 8

  
**Note:** See Part 1 for all pertinent info and the disclaimer.  
  


* * *

  
  
**Part 8   
  
Tuesday, November 25, 2003  
Rodi's**   


Natalie started re-organizing the bottles of liquor behind the bar. She glanced up at the mirror angled over her head and saw John's reflection. Coolly, "You just missed last call." 

He shrugged, "I just stopped by to see how you're doing." 

She turned around, "I thought we had covered this. I don't need you checking up on me. Not to see how I'm doing in the wake of my husband's tragic death and not to make sure I don't put myself in the path of a serial killer or any other homicidal maniacs. I've had my fill, okay? Plus, I'm not really scared of the Music Box Killer and I doubt that I'm even on his radar." 

"Everyone else is scared of him." 

"I've dealt with _two_ evil psychotic Laurence brothers, my long believed to have been dead grandfather being alive and trying to cut my heart out, a convicted felon who decided to hold me and few other women hostage in the diner, a mother-in-law who used to hate me with a passion, and growing up with Roxy as a mother. Yeah, the fact that there's a serial killer lurking around town killing innocent women is frightening. But the killer himself? Scares me about as much as a bad dye job." 

"Are you serious?" His tone was a mixture of disbelief, bemusement, and amusement. 

"Yeah." She paused as she eyed the three remaining customers. She lowered her voice, "You couldn't protect me from Flynn. You couldn't save Cristian from Flynn. You knew we were in danger then. I'm not in any sort of danger now. I don't take dance classes, I don't strip, I don't give lap dances nor have I ever. I don't need or want you to try and protect or save me from the Music Box Killer and every other evil and danger in the world just because you couldn't when you should have." 

He looked wounded as he rubbed his forehead, "Just out of curiosity, do you think that there's a chance that you'll stop hating me for what happened in Vegas? I understand if you don't but -- it's a little more difficult. I wasn't expecting to still be here." 

"Running into the widow so often gets your guilt going?" 

John looked down, "Yeah." 

She folded her arms across her chest, "I've been doing a lot of thinking about things -- _everything_. And I've started reaching a few conclusions. Can I get past the fact that you're partly responsible for Cristian's death and maybe even forgive you? I think that one day, yeah, maybe. Am I still mad at you? Yes. But not because of that. I'm still extremely upset with you because of Cristian's death but I can deal with that. I _am_ dealing with it. But there are some things that I can't deal with, that I can't get over." 

"Like what?" 

She stared at him for a moment then blinked and glanced around the room. One man was left at the end of the bar. She glanced at the clock, "Excuse me? Closing time." 

The man looked up at the clock, slightly irritated, then at her then at John and finished the rest of his drink before mumbling something and tossing some money onto the bar. He slid off the stool and glanced at them again as he walked out. 

Natalie silently grabbed a tray and walked out from behind the bar to gather the glasses and bottles and money off the tables. 

John turned around and watched her. He stuck his hands in his pockets, "Do I get an answer?" 

She narrowed her eyes at him as she walked back around the bar and then into the kitchen. She came back out and looked at him for a minute. He was just standing there, waiting for an answer. She sighed. "I trusted you. I wouldn't have went with you -- alone -- to Philly that first night that we met if I hadn't. I trusted you because you knew Rack 'Em and I trusted him because he was an old friend of Max's. I trusted Max because he was my coach; he had faith in me and he was kind to me even though there used to be a lot of bad blood between me and his son. I know that I shouldn't have trusted you -- you never really gave me a reason to. Cristian didn't trust you. But I gave you the benefit of the doubt, which is something I'm still not used to doing, because I didn't have that gut feeling when I met you. That -- I don't know -- that instinct or intuition that you weren't on the level. And I've had that feeling before and the few times that I ignored it and gave people the benefit of the doubt anyway -- I ended up regretting it more than you could possibly know. For some reason, you didn't set off my internal sensors, not at the beginning, not until you started in with the threats. But then you'd apologize and I figured, 'What the hell? He seems sincere,' so I'd let it go. But then in Vegas -- you threatened my life and you threatened the life of the man I love if I didn't throw that tournament and if I told him. And it was then that I stopped trusting you. And then finding out that you were an FBI agent and that you'd been using me the whole time? Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to trust people? I have been majorly snowballed by four people that I trusted in the past year and a half. People who I thought were my friends and cared about me. I _trusted_ you and you _lied_ to me. You _used_ me. _You betrayed me_. My trust, my confidence. I'm not sure that I'll ever be able to forgive you for that. And I don't think I'll ever be able to trust you again." 

He nodded, "It's a lot to ask for. A second chance." 

"Maybe it's hypocritical of me not to give you one -- God knows how many second and third and fourth chances I've gotten from people in this town after all the lies that I told and the pain that I caused -- but," she paused and shook her head, "right now, at this point, I just don't see that happening. And, I don't know, maybe you can deal with that. Maybe my one day forgiving you for Cristian's death is enough for you. And maybe you just need me to do that so that you can forgive yourself. I know that you feel guilty. _I_ feel guilty." 

He studied her, "Why do you feel guilty?" 

She pressed her lips together and stared at the bar. "I have played those days in Vegas in my mind over and over so many times and I think about what I could have done differently at any time that would have changed the way that things turned out. If I'd just thrown the tournament, if I hadn't attacked you when Flynn was on the ground, if I hadn't tried to run to Cristian when he walked in. And I also think what if Cristian hadn't walked in when he did. What if he hadn't barged into the cabin with the money? What if he hadn't tried to attack Flynn? What if he hadn't saved Flynn's life? But then of course I think about what _you_ could have done. What if you had told me who you really were in the elevator? What if you'd taken me and Jess out of the room when Flynn ordered you to kill us?" she looked at John, tears in her eyes, "All you had to do was take us out of the room and once you'd done that, you could've contacted your back up or whatever. They couldn't have been too far away. They could've caught Flynn if he would've tried to run." She averted her eyes once again, "What if you hadn't turned your back to Flynn when he wasn't restrained?" 

"You have no idea how much I regret the way I handled that situation. If I could change --" 

She looked at him, "But you can't. That's it. No matter how much I regret the decisions _I_ made, no matter how much you regret the decisions you made, it doesn't change what's already happened. It's taken me a while but I'm starting to realize that. What-if and woulda, shoulda, coulda doesn't change a thing. It doesn't help. And it's a waste of time." She started to turn around then stopped, "You've told me you're sorry so many times that I've lost count. Your words don't mean anything to me and it's a waste of breath and there's nothing you can do or say that's going to make me feel any differently." She squinted, "And you seem like you are one of the good guys --" 

"And I am," he cut in. "If you knew me --" 

"That's just it, John! _I don't know you_," Natalie said, throwing her hands up, exasperated. "I had thought that I was getting to know you. I had no idea that the guy I spent hours talking to while practicing and traveling to and from competitions wasn't real and was telling me lies. I thought that we were getting to know each other. And it turns out that I don't know you -- at all. I know a few real things about you but that's it. _I don't know the real you_. And I can't get to know the real you because there's always going to be a part of me wondering if you're really telling me the truth. You can swear that you are but…" 

He sighed, "You won't believe me." 

Natalie shrugged as she started cleaning behind the bar, "What does it matter anyway, you know? I mean, sooner or later the Music Box Killer is going to opt for a change of scenery or get caught. Either way you'll be leaving town and we'll probably never see each other again." For a moment, she thought she saw something along the lines of disappointment, and possibly even hurt, in his eyes. 

He pursed his lips together. "When you put it like that, I guess you're right. It really doesn't matter. I mean, you are right. Once this case is closed or it moves, I will be leaving Llanview. I just guess -- I guess that I thought that maybe we could be friends and I get it that we can't. But I hope that we can get along at least. While I am here." 

Natalie chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about it. "We can try. I can't promise you that I'll always be civil towards you. Sometimes it just hits me -- what happened -- and there are a lot of emotions tied up with that." 

"I understand." 

"Okay." 

John tried not to smile. He was making a little progress. "So, I'll see you around." 

"Guess so." 

"Take care." 

"You too." 

She watched him walk out of the bar and slowly exhaled. She leaned forward, her elbows on the bar, "Forgiveness. We'll see how that works out." 

  



	9. Part 9

  
**Note:** See Part 1 for all pertinent info and the disclaimer.  
  


* * *

  
  
**Part 9   
  
Monday, December 1, 2003  
Foxy Roxy's Hair Haven**   


_"Come and trim my Christmas tree  
With some decorations bought at Tiffany's  
I really do believe in you  
Let's see if you believe in me  
Boo doo bee doo"_

Natalie stood back, watching Roxy dance around, singing, as she swept up hair. 

_"Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing"_

Janelle walked in and raised an eyebrow. She walked over to Natalie and nudged her, "Hey, how long has she been at it?" 

_"A ring  
I don't mean on the phone"_

"The Queen of Karaoke and now apparently Christmas Cheer? Ever since I got back from lunch." 

_"Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight"_

Natalie shook her head as Roxy shimmied around. "Roxy, you're freaking out the customers!" 

Janelle took a quick look around the salon, "What customers? Most people are shopping." 

"Potential customers." 

Roxy looked at her and smiled. 

_"Hurry down the chimney tonight."_

Roxy danced over to Natalie and laid her head on her shoulder. 

_"Hurry down the chimney -- tonight."_

Natalie rolled her eyes and pushed Roxy's head off of her shoulder, "You done or are doing another encore?" 

"I'm done. For now. With that one." She laughed, "C'mon, baby, you've gotta get in the Christmas spirit." 

_"Have a holly, jolly Christmas --"_

"Oh God, Roxy, please, give it a rest!" 

_"-- It's the best time of the year."_

"You sing one more line and I'm quitting." 

Roxy stopped and frowned. She jabbed a finger at Natalie, "You know, you sure know how to be a Grinch." 

Natalie gaped, "I am _not_ a Grinch." 

"Scrooge?" 

"I'm not a Scrooge either." 

"Then lighten up, will ya? There are exactly twenty-four days until Christmas and I bet that you don't have a single decoration up at the cottage. _And_ you probably haven't even done any shopping yet either. Am I right?" 

Natalie simply said nothing, glancing away and tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear, her lips pressed into a thin line. 

Roxy grinned, "I'm right; you don't!" She grew serious, "Listen, honey, I know that you're still feeling down and that maybe you don't feel like spreading the holiday cheer and that's fine. But you're gonna have to deal with me and everyone else who cares about you bringing as much holiday cheer and all that good stuff to you as we can, got it?" 

"I don't really have any other choice, do I?" 

Roxy grinned and shook her head, "Na-uh." 

Natalie sighed, "Fine. But please try to keep the caroling to a minimum, okay?" 

"Whatever you say, baby." Roxy sashayed back across the salon and began singing again: 

_"Bells will be ringing, the glad, glad news  
Oh what a Christmas, to have the blues"_

"Oh, this song's filled with tons of Christmas cheer," Natalie muttered. 

Janelle shrugged, "Maybe she's singing it just for you." 

_"My baby's gone  
I have no friends"_

"Hey, Rox, could you sing something a little more depressing? Thanks." 

Roxy put the broom back in the closet and gave Natalie a look, a hand on her hip, "Hey, you feel like being a downer, this is what you get. I'll get back to the more festive stuff later." 

_"I have no friends  
To wish me greetings, once again  
Choirs will be singing, Silent Night  
Oh, Christmas carols, by candlelight"_

Janelle shrugged her coat off and went into the back room. Natalie sat down behind the desk at the front of the salon. Roxy checked all the supplies at the work stations. 

_"Please come home for Christmas  
Please come home for Christmas  
If not for Christmas, by New Year's night"_

Natalie laid her head back against the back of the chair and looked up at the mural of Roxy painted on the wall above her. 

_"Friends and relations  
Send salutations  
Just as sure as the star shine above"_

Natalie sat up and turned around, facing the wall, and stared at the mural, her head cocked slightly to the side, studying it. She reached up and ran her fingers over the paint. Paint that Cristian had mixed. 

_"This is Christmas, Christmas my dear  
The time of year to be with the one that you love" _

  


They had been sitting on the ottoman in the library at Llanfair. In front of the fireplace. 

"I always hated Christmas." 

"How come?" 

"You know, it's never what you expected. When I was a kid, I used to wish that it could be just like the ones on the toy commercials. You know, they all come running down the stairs in their robes and opening Christmas presents. I always thought it'd be cool if somehow I could get put into the TV and I could spend Christmas with their families." 

"Yeah, I used to wish the same thing." 

She looked at him, surprised, "Really?" 

"Yeah, but just for the -- you know, the commercials with the remote-controlled car. That one." It had been his attempt to get her to smile. To cheer her up. 

"You know the weird thing, though? I mean, last year, I'm here and I have -- I have that Christmas and I got the robes and the Christmas presents underneath the tree and --" 

"Wasn't as great as you thought it would be?" 

"I -- I broke Jessica's special ornament, and she was pretty upset. I mean, it was an accident." 

"You didn't mean to." 

"No, no, I didn't. I said I was sorry but, you know, she was still upset. I got to tell you, though --" 

"What?" 

"I really wasn't sorry. I mean, Jessica had everything. She always had everything. And I resented that." 

  


"Maybe I am a Grinch," Natalie mumbled to herself, her fingers still lightly tracing over the mural. Lines that Cristian had sketched underneath it. 

_"Then will you tell me, you'll never roam  
Christmas and New Year will find you home  
There'll be no more sorrow  
No grief or pain  
'Cause I'll be happy that it's Christmas once again" _

  


They were still on the ottoman. 

This could have been a great Christmas. Their first Christmas together. Well, sort of together. Cristian had finally broken up with Jen and told her that they were in love and that they wanted to be together. But she was married to Mitch. And Jessica had run off and no one had a clue as to where she was. 

Somehow she'd managed to find the hope that everything would work out. That things would get better. That this would be her last sad Christmas. That next year would be different. Next year -- she'd be happy. And she and Cristian would really truly be together; they'd celebrate their first real Christmas together -- as a couple. 

"You know, all this is going to be over soon. Mitch is going to be behind bars and then Jessica will come back, and finally, you and I can be together." 

"We are together. Merry Christmas." He'd pulled her closer to him and they'd continued to sit there, cuddling. 

  


Natalie pulled her hand back and sighed. The bell above the door jingled and she turned to see Rex walking in. "Hey." 

He leaned forward, his hands on the desk, "Hey, sis. You want to grab some lunch?" 

"I already had lunch." 

"Oh. Coffee break?" 

"What are you up to?" 

He looked at her innocently, "Nothing! Can't a guy take his big sister out for a meal or a cup of coffee _without_ having some ulterior motive?" 

Natalie arched an eyebrow, "This is you we're talking about." 

He straightened up, "Okay, see, now I'm offended. All I wanted --" 

_"Rocking around the Christmas tree  
At the Christmas party hop"_

Rex's expressions soured, "What the hell is that?" 

_"Mistletoe hung where you can see  
Ev'ry couple tries to stop"_

"Roxy's idea of getting into the holiday spirit or something like that." 

"Are you kidding?" 

_"Rocking around the Christmas tree  
Let the Christmas Spirit ring"_

"Nope." 

Rex and Natalie peeked behind the partition to see Roxy dancing around. 

_"Later we'll have some pumpkin pie  
and we'll do some caroling"_

"Hey, Mom, give it a rest, will ya?" 

Roxy stopped, "What is wrong with the two of you? Did I raise you both to be such -- I don't know -- anti-yuletide whatevers? And I don't need no smart comments from either of you on how I didn't raise you." 

"No offense, Roxy, but when I was growing up, your favorite thing about Christmas was the eggnog. And that was only if there was rum in it. You never came to a single one of my Christmas pageants and let's not even go into how the only way the house got decorated was if I did it, you'd verbally rip my home made decorations to shreds then later actually do so while you were drunk, and that you always treated Christmas day like it was any other day." 

"That was then and this is now. Stop living in the past, honey bunch. I'm going to make up for all those sucky Christmases -- to both of you. You gotta remember that this is the new and improved Roxy!" 

"Well, if you're in the giving mood, I'm in the receiving mood," Rex said. 

Natalie swatted him on the arm, "Rex!" 

"Hey! What?" He rubbed his arm. 

She gestured at Roxy, "You really want to encourage this behavior?" 

He grinned, "I think it's great that Mom's gotten into the holiday spirit." 

Roxy smiled, "Thanks, Rexy." 

He shrugged, "Besides, I don't work here so I don't have to listen to her sing all the time." 

"Hey!" Roxy glared at him. 

Natalie glared at him, "Traitor." 

He shrugged again and gave her a cocky smile, "Sorry, sis. You enjoy yourself. I gotta go find me a lunch date." 

"What about me?" 

"You turned me down and you mocked me." He shook his head. 

"And I'm sorry but please get me out of here before Roxy drives me crazy with all these Christmas songs." She looked at Roxy, "You don't need me here, do you? I mean, Janelle's here, so I can go." 

Janelle waddled out of the back room, "Sorry, but I can't stay." 

Natalie and Roxy looked at her, "Why?" 

"My water just broke." 

"Oh my God." 

"You're not going to have the baby in here, are you?" 

"Do you need me to drive you to the hospital?" 

Roxy and Natalie looked at Rex. 

"What? The woman's in labor." 

"That'd be great. I'll see you two later," Janelle said as Rex ushered her out. 

Roxy and Natalie watched them leave. Roxy looked at Natalie. After a moment she began: 

_"Bring a torch, Jeanette, Isabella"_

Natalie stared at her, "Is there any end to this madness?" 

Roxy shook her head. 

_"Bring a torch, to the cradle run!"_

  
  
**Note:** The dialogue from the Crisalie flashbacks were from the December 24, 2002 Christmas episode. Lyrics for "Santa Baby" by Joan Javits, Phil Springer, and Tony Springer. Lyrics for "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas" and "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" by Johnny Marks. Lyrics for "Please Come Home for Christmas (Bells Will Be Ringing)" by Charles Mose Brown and Gene C. Redd. Lyrics for "Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella" (traditionally in French: "Un Flambeau, Jeannette, Isabelle") by ???. 


End file.
